


The lion and the snake

by Fustercluck, shortstack (nimbleCustardlegs)



Series: Clint/Vladimir [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gryf!Clint, M/M, Slytherin!Vlad, another one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:11:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4727141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fustercluck/pseuds/Fustercluck, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimbleCustardlegs/pseuds/shortstack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Vladimir Ranskahov and Clint Barton meet on the train, it's the start of an amazing friendship. Even if one of them is a gryffindor and the other is a slytherin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not all snakes are slimey

**Author's Note:**

> This was a co-write with Amber! Hope you all enjoy, and remember to leave a kudos or even a comment if you think it was worthy

As much as he hated to admit it, Clint was scared. Nat had left the moment they’d got on the train, and poor little firstie Clint was left to fend for himself. He’d been kicked out of no less than four compartments so far, and doubted he would ever find one. He checked inside every single compartment, but most of them were full of fourth and fifth years, meaning he couldn’t get one.

 

Eventually, he found a compartment that only had one person in it. It was a boy in muggle clothes, his knees pulled close to his chest, thin fingers drumming on his legs as he stared out of the window. After just a moment of hesitation, Clint opened the door. The boy’s head turned to him, and Clint was almost blown away by the intensity of his gaze. It took him several seconds to realise he’s staring, until the boy quirked an eyebrow, and Clint stuttered out an apology, before managing to get himself together and ask “Can I sit here? Everywhere else I’ve been is full” And, at the boy’s nod, he slid into the compartment.

 

It took both of them ten minutes to get Clint’s trunk onto the rack before they sat down opposite each other. They spent the train-ride talking, and by the time they got to the castle, the two were best friends. When they climbed off of the train, in their new robes, they stuck together. Even on the boat ride (where they were joined by two other kids who introduced themselves as Foggy and Karen) the two were basically joined at the hip.

 

At the sorting, the two stood together, Clint looking just as nervous as all the other first years, Vladimir with his chin high and shoulders back, just like Toly had taught him. From the slytherin table, he caught his brother’s proud gaze and blinked once, earning a tiny smile, until the sorting  actually began.

 

By the time Professor Granger reached “Baggins, Brian” Clint was sweating and shaking at once. He didn’t know what house he would be in, but he was hoping for Gryffindor, even though Nat was a Slytherin and he knew that Vlad was aiming for Slytherin as well. Even Tony Stark, Nat’s friend, was a Ravenclaw.

 

When she finally called “Barton, Clint” he felt Vlad give his hand a squeeze before he walked forward. The last thing he saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was Nat’s encouraging smile. And then he couldn’t see and there was a tiny voice in his ear. “Well, well, well, what have we here? Plenty of courage, I see… And a thirst to prove yourself, oh yes… You’re loyal and kind, too… But not Hufflepuff… You’re street smart, not book smart, so Ravenclaw wouldn’t fit you… So that leaves two. Which will it be?” Clint squeezed his eyes tightly. “Gryffindor, please, Gryffindor…” The little voice hummed. “Are you sure? It’s all here, in your head, you could be great in Slytherin. No? Well, if you’re sure, better be... GRYFFINDOR!” Yelled the hat. The red and gold clad table burst into cheers as Clint hurried over to sit there.

 

The rest of the sorting went as expected, until there were only seventeen or so students left. “Ranskahov, Vladimir.” Made Clint look up suddenly. He half hoped Vladimir got put in Gryffindor, but, two minutes later, his hopes were dashed as the hat called out “SLYTHERIN”

When they were eating, Clint tried to catch Vlad’s eye, scared that this would impact their friendship, but Vlad just wouldn’t look at him. After a while, he just gave up, and went back to eating his mashed potato.

 

The next morning Clint dragged himself over to the Gryffindor table, looking around but not catching sight of Vladimir anywhere. That is, until Vlad came over and plopped himself down next to Clint. The boy looked up in surprise, but the slytherin just grabbed a mug and poured coffee into it. After draining it (twice), he turned to Clint and started talking, but he was too surprised to react.

 

“You don’t want me here?” Vlad asked, a bit off-putted, but it was enough to snap Clint out of it, who quickly shook his head. “No, of course I do, it’s just… I thought slytherin and gryffindor were rivals?”  
  


Vlad simply shrugged, and reached for the coffee again. “Do you think of us as rivals?” He asked, smirking as he drank his coffee “No, no, it’s just… I didn’t think we were allowed to sit together.” This earned him a snort, and Clint tried a different approach. “Don’t you want to sit with your brother?”

 

“Toly? I see him all summer. There’s only so much of him I can take” Vlad chuckled, bumping their shoulders together. That made Clint smile a little, and he nodded, reassured.

 

“I’m glad you’re here.” he admitted softly. It took Vlad a moment, but he realised that the entire Gryffindor table was silent. He scanned the whole table, and he narrowed his eyes. After a couple of seconds, he locked eyes with the seventh year sat opposite him, and shovelled a large forkful of beans into his mouth. The seventh year scowled, but didn’t say anything, returning to his sausage. After that, conversation slowly picked up again as people realised that Vladimir wasn’t going to leave.

  
Clint smiled and scoot scoot a bit closer, to their sides were pressed together, like they’d been on the boat. Then he continued eating, glad he’d made a friend.


	2. Matches and needles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoah????? New chapter already??? omg what????? another co-write with Amber!!! Remember to leave a kudos or even a comment if it was worthy!

Clint had been so thrilled when he found out he shared a class with Vladimir - one of his first classes, no less. So, moving stairs permitting, he’d shown up to transfiguration five minutes early, and kept the stool next to him free by putting his bag on it and shooting foul looks at anyone who looked like they might want to take the seat.

 

Vladimir showed up two minutes late, rubbing his jaw and sitting down in the seat beside Clint without hesitation.

 

“Trouble?” Asked Clint quietly, which got him a little shake of Vlad’s head. Luckily, Professor Granger hadn’t shown up yet, so that gave Clint more time to interrogate Vladimir about why exactly he was late. “So, one of your ‘friends’ socked you in the jaw?”

 

Vladimir turned a little to scowl at him, dropping his hand. “It’s nothing.”

 

“Doesn’t look like nothing” Clint protested petulantly

 

“It’s not even bruised. Just fucking drop it, Мудак” He snapped, half-turning away to stare at the front of the classroom. His language startled Clint, but he answered snarkily anyway.

 

“Fine. Figure it out yourself, then.” Clint huffed, pouting a little as he turned back. He could hear Vlad muttering to himself in what he assumed was Russian, but he wasn’t quite sure.

 

Just as he was about to speak again, the door closed with a bang, and all the first years jumped, looking up at the middle-aged witch who’d come in at last. There was a moment of silence as she stalked through the aisles of desks until she reached the front of the classroom. “My name is Professor Granger, and I will be your Transfiguration teacher. Anyone who tries to fool around in this class will leave and not come back. Am I understood?” At the quick nod everyone gave, she began writing on the chalkboard.

 

The first half of the class was spent taking notes, and then the professor went through the classroom, passing a matchstick to every individual student while reciting the spell needed to turn it into a needle. Clint nervously took his wand, practising the movement a few times and mumbling the spell under his breath, which was enough to make the match quiver a little. Then he glanced aside, and noticed Vlad leaning back, a perfectly neat needle laying on the table in front of him. He hadn’t even heard Vladimir say the spell.

 

“How’d you do that so quickly?” he hissed, eyebrows scrunched up. Vlad shrugged. “Is easy for me. I just… Get it.”

 

Well, it couldn’t be so hard then, could it? Clint said the spell confidently, waving his wand, but all he managed to do was get the match to wiggle. Suddenly, Vladimir's hands were on his, and he was shaking his head. “You’re moving your wand wrong.” He explained.

 

“Here, like this.” He took his own wand and waved it slightly, and Clint mimicked the movement, frowning. “Yes, now say the spell”

 

Clint nodded and did so, biting his lip in concentration. The match became slightly silvery and pointy on one end. Clint huffed out a breath, but Vlad grabbed his hand again, showing the movement once more. “No, no, much better. You almost have it. You need to draw out your vowel more, too. Come on, try again”

 

It took him four more tries, but eventually he had a passable needle in front of him. Professor Granger passed them, then, and beamed down proudly. “Twenty points to Gryffindor and Slytherin each. Well done, boys!” Clint grinned at the praise, and even Vlad ducked his head to hide his smile.

 

By the end of the lesson, only they had managed to change their matches into needles, and even then, Clint probably couldn’t have done it without Vlad’s help. At the thought, he glanced over at said boy, and noticed that his jaw had begun to swell up.

 

“You should have that looked at in the hospital wing.” Clint suggested. Vlad looked offended by the very idea. “It’s nothing.” He snapped, and Clint blinked. He didn’t know why Vlad seemed to hate the idea of getting help, but he left it alone.

 

Clint thought he had blown it with Vlad when he had stalked away without saying goodbye, and sat at lunch picking at his food until he heard a familiar sigh as Vlad dropped into the seat beside him again.  

 

“Just can’t get enough of me, huh?” Clint teased, though his tone was cautious. He didn’t want Vlad to be angry with him again. Luckily, though, Vladimir teased right back. “Just don’t want you going into withdrawal without me” Which made Clint laugh, relieved.

 

“It’s good you’re back, then. I was starting to get twitchy already.” He snarked back, making Vlad smirk.

 

“Then it seems I was just in time.” Vlad hummed in return, reaching for the jug of pumpkin juice to pour them both a glass. He hadn’t tried it before, though, and after a sip he completely abandoned it to dig around in his bag, withdrawing a metal flask and taking a swig of it. His shoulders seemed to relax, and he thoughtlessly offered it to Clint.

 

Clint frowned as he was offered the flask, taking it and sniffing the contents. before carefully taking a sip. He pulled a face and only barely managed to swallow it down, a shudder going through him as it burned all the way down into his stomach.

 

“Why do you drink that?” he asked, quickly drinking some more juice to get rid of the taste. Vlad snatched the flask back. with a shrug. “It helps.” Was all he said, taking another drink before letting out a sharp whistle. At the slytherin table, Toly’s head jerked up just as the flask came sailing his way. He caught it and raised it in thanks, downing most of the Vodka inside it before he tossed it back.

 

“Helps with what?!” Clint sputtered. “Hypothermia?”

 

Vlad shrugged again, before calling something out to Toly in Russian, sounding kind of pissed. Clint glared at him. “Vladimir! Why do you drink it?!” He asked snappishly.

 

“Already told you. Helps.”  

 

“Didn’t answer my question, though.”

 

“It just helps with things, okay? I just does. I have my reasons.” He mumbled into his flask as he drank the rest of it.

 

“Sure you got your reasons.” Clint muttered, a bit angry that Vlad was already drinking.

 

“Да, I do.” Clint had noticed that when Vladimir didn’t want to talk about something he would fill his mouth with food at that would be the end of the conversation. Such as what he was doing now. He had filled his mouth with a huge bite of his sandwich and turned away from Clint.

  
Clint just huffed, muttering something crude under his breath, and left it at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks if you made it this far, and remember to leave a kudos if you enjoyed!
> 
> -Dan & Amber

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks if you made it is far! Remember to leave a kudos if you enjoyed!
> 
> -Dan & Amber


End file.
